


Ephemeral

by ouro_boros



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Didn't Know They Were Dating, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, but i stand by it, i wrote this a while back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-29 22:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15738873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ouro_boros/pseuds/ouro_boros
Summary: Louis and Harvey would never leave each other. Whether that meant being rivals or friends, it didn't really matter. Still, if they could agree on one thing, it'd be that the latter felt nicer.





	Ephemeral

Louis and Harvey had always been friends. Sure, they had gone through rough patches; Harvey delighted in embarrassing and berating Louis, and of course Louis would retake the opportunity to blackmail his way into name partner any day. However, no matter what happened, the two stuck together. While that could make for an occasionally clingy dynamic, everyone who knew them were well aware that they wouldn’t be separating for a good while. Still, some weeks were better than others.

And this was one of those weeks.

Recently, the two had been going out for lunch together, regularly holding rational conversations, even enjoying each other’s company. Louis knew that soon enough he would fuck something up and things would go back to being tense and full of not-exactly-repressed anger. For the time being, he savored their meals and tried his best not to accidentally leak information or make bad deals or do whatever else he’d do that would inevitably manage to ruin everything.

One night, after dinner, the two came back up to Harvey’s apartment full of buzzed giggles and grins. Harvey hadn’t even thought about them coming back there. It was habit for him to get tipsy with someone, take them back to his apartment, and see if certain activities weren’t yet out of reach. That last bit was not in the plan for Louis.

“You’re kidding.” Harvey grinned, nightcap grasped loosely in his hand.

“Not one bit. Lost a prospective client, sure, but uh…” Louis let out a laugh, “I think it was worth it.”

“I would never do something like that.”

“Really. Harvey Specter, New York’s best closer, wouldn’t have the guts?”

“Hey, I never said anything about guts. I do things at the risk of looking more charming, not losing potential clients. That guy was an asshole, but a fucking rich one,” he clarified, speech just beginning to slur.

“Since when do you care about clients being assholes?” Before Harvey could answer, he interrupted, “Oh wait, that’s right. You know, sometimes I forget who’s the teacher and who’s the protege between you.”

“Neither! Mike’s a fully-fledged lawyer now.”

“Eh, he’ll always be special to you. That’s just how it works. Speaking of, did you two ever…” Louis made some very specific facial expressions that perhaps no one but the person sitting before him could decipher.

“What? No! He’s half my age,” Harvey answered, bewildered.

“You have to admit though, you always had that kind of tension between you.”

“I have ‘that kind of tension’ with _everyone_. If Donna hadn’t rubbed off on me, I’d’ve had sex with every person in the office at this point.”

Here they paused, the alcohol making the implication of that statement strangely clear. Louis glanced down Harvey’s figure before flicking back up, hoping he hadn’t been noticed. He had.

Once he tired of silence, Louis muttered, “Everyone?”

Harvey, however, rather enjoyed a good moment of silence. To procure this fleeting commodity, he stole the noise from Louis’ mouth, soft and tender. When he pulled away, Louis still had his eyes open. Jesus. Was he drunk enough for this?

Was he drunk enough to convince himself he’d had to be?

Louis breathed, “Holy shit,” before pulling Harvey towards him by his slightly unbuttoned shirt, leaning back into the couch arm.

Knowing Louis as he did—in the way that he did—Harvey had assumed that he would try to top like he did at work, always attempting to trump his best friend/nemesis. However, now that he thought about it, all the things he’d noticed when Louis had been with Sheila that he’d tried very hard not to think about came together to show an oddly alluring picture of submission.

Meanwhile, his hands seemed to have minds of their own, roaming Louis until they paused on his zipper. Louis breathed in and Harvey stopped, just in case.

“Bedroom?” Louis murmured.

Harvey grinned and pulled him up in answer.

*

It was five days later, and they both carried on like nothing had happened. As far as Harvey was concerned, it hadn’t. They had had sex before, a month within their meeting, and they were always going to have sex again. The other night had only been finally going through with it. He repeated this in his mind over and over as they continued their lunch dates. _It didn’t matter_.

Harvey sat, head in one hand, the other hand tapping a pen on the cool glass of his desk. He’d had a rare work day of seven in the morning all the way to…

He glanced up at the clock. Shit. He should probably go home. He glared at the door, rolled his pen between two fingers, thought about walking through the dark and empty building to get to a dark and empty apartment, and decided to stay at work a bit longer (as if things would get better as it got later). He looked back down at his paperwork.

“What?” said a voice from the doorway. “No. No no no no no.”

Harvey raised his head to see Louis, already halfway into his office, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“‘No’ what?” he asked, ever the contrarian.

“‘No,’ you staying up to—” he checked the clock, “an ungodly hour of the morning doing—doing work. _You’re_ staying up late to _work_. What on?”

“What? Oh. Just paperwork. Double checking everything for tomorrow.”

“See?” Louis said with the tone of a parent confronted with evidence proving his point. “It’s not even company-threatening. You’re just doing mundane labor for—for what, the hell of it? No. I refuse to believe that Harvey Specter is sitting at his desk when he could be out doing whatever he does at night for _no reason_. You’re hiding something. Tell me. Right now.”

Harvey wearily met Louis’ stare and held it, trying his very best to project “leave me the fuck alone you dicktard” into his mind via eye contact alone. Louis’ gaze narrowed, held, then released into an exhausted roll.

“So you won’t tell me. That’s fine. But you’re not getting away with falling asleep at your desk. If I see you wearing that spare suit of yours tomorrow…”

“Which one?” Harvey provoked, barely holding in a yawn.

“You know the—wait. You only have one.”

Harvey shrugged. “I upgraded.”

Louis looked suspicious. As he should have been. Harvey was lying through his teeth, the location of the not quite wrinkled suit at the forefront of his mind. However, not for the first time that night, Louis gave up. He walked towards where Harvey sat in his expensive and comfortable chair and dumped him out of it.

“Well then,” he decided, and as much as Harvey teased him, Louis’ decisions were usually final when he got like this, “you’re sleeping on the couch. Then, when you wake up, if it’s not time for work yet, you are going home. Understood?”

Harvey straightened his suit jacket. “How do you know I wasn’t just about to leave?”

Louis raised a single eyebrow and stared at him for a moment before sitting in his chair and reading through the paperwork in front of him.

“Is this really all you were doing?” He blew out a puff of amused air. “I could fill this out in my sleep.”

“You don’t have to do my work for me,” Harvey said, settling into the couch because he apparently lacked willpower at whatever time of the morning it was. “You were just heading home, right?”

“Knowing you, you’ve convinced yourself these need doing and you’re not going to sleep if you think it won’t get done. So. I’m doing it.”

He grumbled and laid down. “I think you’re thinking of _someone else_ ,” he replied pointedly, but in truth, he knew Louis was right. Harvey did occasionally—okay, frequently, set unnecessary goals and refuse to think of anything else until he was done. But that was always to avoid something, and what on Earth would he be avoiding now?

For the next five minutes or so, Harvey enjoyed the bliss in between that of the waking world and sleep. His couch was a great deal more comfortable to sleep on than he’d have thought it would be. Eventually, he drifted off, only disturbed by creeks of plastic and squeaking of leather.

By the time he woke up, the sun had risen and a stack of paperwork was piled neatly on his desk. A quick sift through proved that it was all properly done. Of course. What had he expected?

He should have expected too the little note left in the sort of elegant handwriting that should be reserved for calligraphy classes, kindly informing him that this was a freebie, but not to expect the same next time.

Ha! “Next time.” As if he would frequently require Louis’ assistance on late nights caused by—

The abandoned train of thought lead Harvey to an interesting idea. What if this wasn’t a “freebie” at all, but was a sort of payment for the other night? Or a bribe perhaps, asking he not tell what he never would have told anyway.

He chuckled at this, entranced by the concept of being paid off in paperwork (a thing so ridiculous and so incredibly Louis), and amused at the idea that having sex with Harvey would ruin Louis’ reputation.

Harvey left the note in his desk drawer and set off for home to quickly change, knowing that this was the beginning of the end. The note was sweet. Too sweet. The sort of climactic sweet that marked the fall of their ephemeral eras. He gave them three days before Louis (or maybe, just maybe, Harvey) fucked up and they again lost their friendship. Until then, and obviously after, they certainly wouldn’t do any more of the other day’s kind of sex.

*

He was wrong on both accounts.

*

It didn’t take very long for Donna to notice that something was off.

One night, before going home, she slid into Harvey’s office. She closed the door behind her as a show of privacy.

Harvey sighed. “Alright, what is it this time? I’ve been too nice to someone? Coming in for work too early? Have I been too efficient on my cases?”

“You’re dating Louis.”

This caught Harvey by surprise. He met her eyes to see an alarming lack of sarcasm.

“What?”

“I thought you two were just friends again, but you’re never friends for more than two weeks at a time and nearly a month has passed already. You don’t exactly seem to be running out of steam either—you had another lunch with him today.”

“And this means we’re dating?”

“No. But add it to the fact that I’m pretty sure you’ve had sex at least once,” it was four times overall now, though he didn’t bother to tell her, “and you’re still not distancing yourself, and that means you at least care about him romantically, which is new. You don’t fuck friends.”

He gestured to Donna. She shook her head, smiling as if amused by a child.

“I’m a special case, Harvey.”

“So what do you want me to do? I assume there _is_ something.”

“I just wanted you to know. You can get out of touch with yourself.”

Harvey went silent for a moment. As if anticipating that he would need to ask something, Donna remained where she stood.

“Does he know?” he asked quietly.

She shrugged. “Probably not. I thought it would do more to make sure you knew than him.”

“Because?”

“He wouldn’t believe it. Or he’d be afraid to do anything about it. Or he’d get stubborn.”

“So there _is_ something you want me to do.”

“If you think of letting Louis know that you’re dating as that bad a chore, then… yes. Yes there is.”

Harvey avoided asking the question floating in his head—stupid and self-deprecating—and the other one that was rather more narcissistic and that he already knew the answer to anyway.

“Fine,” he answered. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Sated, Donna smiled and exited.

*

He did not do it the next day.

Or the next.

Or the next.

Or even when they—once again—got dangerously close to their night of beer and wine becoming romantic.

In fact, before he knew it, a week had passed and the thing was gone from his mind. Well, actually, it still loomed over him like the grim reaper, but he liked to think it was gone.

He and Louis were in the middle of a case, Rothbauer vs. Foster. It was a gritty case full of crime and intrigue that Harvey had had just about enough of when, as they were leaving the office, a prominent player in the scene entered with an air of triumph.

Garret happily informed them of new evidence eradicating the defendant’s scrap of an alibi. He continued on about how idiotic it was for them to have let this get to court in the first place, which made Harvey give Louis a little side glare—he’d been the one so desperate to prove himself after all. Noticing this, Garret grinned and turned towards Louis.

“You truly are useless outside of financials. You weren’t meant for the courtroom, Mr. Litt; you should’ve stayed in your office.”

Harvey took a step between them, wanting fiercely to protect him. “Hey, Louis is a better lawyer than you’ll ever be.”

“Defending your boyfriend, Mr. Specter?”

 _“Yes,”_ Harvey practically growled, not noticing the widened eyes behind him, the mouth fallen open. “He is a name partner at New York’s best law firm. What are you?”

He “hmph”ed, turned on his heel, and left.

Harvey allowed himself a smirk, always taking pleasure in such fine activities as insulting the uppity. When he turned around, however, he wondered if he hadn’t done something dreadfully wrong.

“What is it?”

“Did you just—he just—and you—”

“Woah there, take a breath, Louis.” He chuckled nervously and stepped towards him hand out in potential comfort or apology, going back over their words in his head, trying to—

Oh.

 _Shit_.

He reiterated this thought out loud.

“Louis, I’m sorry, I—”

“We’re dating,” Louis muttered, breath barely leaving his mouth, “aren’t we?”

“Uh.” Harvey lowered his hand, finding himself at a loss for words. “Maybe? Kind of. Yeah, yes, we are.”

“Oh.”

Harvey cleared his throat, filling the silence as Louis’ still shocked expression refused to change.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked.

“Fuck yes.”

“Ah. Good.”

Louis’ gaze drifted to the names hanging before him, then back to Harvey, then away again, and eventually landed on Harvey.

“Would it be okay with you if I enacted a fantasy of mine?”

“As long as it’s office sex, probab—”

Louis pulled him in by the tie and kissed him. Harvey quickly followed suit, wrapping his arms around him. So taken up in the moment, he nearly forgot where they were standing. Louis, on the other hand, remembered very intimately. When he broke away, smiling into Harvey’s shoulder, his eyes meandered back to the names on the wall.

“I’m beginning to feel a bit used here.”

Louis laughed, short and hard and distracted. “Sorry,” he said, “just… living the dream. My name’s on the wall, the company’s not currently in peril, and… you.” He backed away, now looking at the floor. “Shit. That just actually came out of my mouth.”

Harvey laughed, happy that Louis was taking this well—and apparently had had a fantasy involving kissing him underneath both of their names (or at least Louis’, a distinguishment he preferred not to examine) for God knew how long.

“So,” Louis began, re-establishing eye contact, “how long have you known?”

“About a week. Donna told me.”

“Oh my God, we’re  _idiots._ ”

“Speak for yourself.”

Louis pulled him in for another kiss, giving in to his one-track mind. Harvey allowed himself to get absorbed in his stubble, in the softness of his neck, in the warmth of his lips. Eventually he pulled away just enough to say, “What now?”

“Well uh…” Louis licked his lips. “I think you said something about office sex?”

**Author's Note:**

> As I mentioned in the tags, this is pretty old. It took me a long time to edit, since I have a very specific "Louis and Harvey" mood that I rarely capture. Also, "random lawyer/Garret" was until literally moments before my writing this note was an unnamed woman, placed there because Suits is so male dominated. But he's such an asshole, I didn't really want the only woman besides Donna to be pulling that crap. Thus, Garret. 
> 
> So, not my best work, but I still think it's fun! And hey, thanks for reading.


End file.
